


Gee Y/N! How come your mom lets you have two Quicksilvers?

by sweeter_innocence



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Blood and Injury, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Cunnilingus, Doggy Style, Eventual Smut, F/M, Face-Fucking, Jealousy, Kinda?, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Pietro Loves Cats, Pietro Maximoff Lives, Play Fighting, Powered!reader - Freeform, Smut, Spitroasting, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, avenger!reader, dad!Erik Lensherr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:47:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29445048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweeter_innocence/pseuds/sweeter_innocence
Summary: When Peter Maximoff falls through a crack in space into the MCU, Pietro isn't sure of anything anymore. Three things are true:1) Pietro is in love with you.2) You are an idiot.3) Peter is just here for a good time.
Relationships: Pietro Maximoff/Reader, Pietro Maximoff/Reader/Peter Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff/You, Pietro Maximoff/You/Peter Maximoff, slight Pietro Maximoff/Peter Maximoff
Comments: 11
Kudos: 168





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This concept wouldn't get out of my head so I decided to make a whole new AO3 account. Title is ridiculous but I couldn't resist.
> 
> This work will be primarily Pietro/Reader, with a delicious sprinkling of Peter/Reader. Mostly Peter/Reader is written as friendship. Mostly.
> 
> For the avoidance of confusion, the MCU's Quicksilver (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) will be referred to as Pietro and X-men's Quicksilver (Evan Peters) will be referred to as Peter. 
> 
> Also this is written very roughly, I'll be going back and editing later but my brain hurts rn and I need approval. 
> 
> Like a lot of people, I used Romanian for Sokovian. Apologies if I butchered it:
> 
> Draga mea - My darling  
> Prinţesă - Princess  
> Dragă - Darling

You awoke to the sound of your bedroom door clicking shut. You lay still, pretending to be asleep while you listened to gentle, padding footsteps approaching your bed.

“Draga mea,” came the soft Sokovian voice of the man you were trying desperately not to be in love with. There was movement, and then came a muffled string of terms of endearment, in both Sokovian and English. You opened your eyes. Pietro was holding your cat against his chest, his face buried into her fur. Socks loved Pietro almost as much as he loved her, nuzzling against him fervently and pawing at his head.

“Did you need something?” you asked, only playfully annoyed.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” said Pietro, pulling your cat away from his face, but still holding her.

“No, I’m not,” you said, trying to pull the covers back over your head, but Pietro was by the side of your bed in a flash, holding your wrist. Socks let out an angry meow at being unceremoniously placed back on the bed.

“Nope,” he said, “you’re not going back to sleep. We’re training together today, remember?” 

“Is that today?” you groaned.

“It is, but if you sleep in any longer, it will be tomorrow.” He was grinning at you expectantly.

“Alright, alright, I need a shower first.” Your crush on him was hopeless, but there was still no way you were letting him within three feet of you until you had got cleaned up.

“Why shower now when you are only going to get sweaty again?”

“I can shower later too.”

“I do not understand you,” he said, but he was still smiling. “I will see you downstairs in ten minutes.”

“Twenty,” you said, but he was already gone.

Once you were showered and dressed in your best workout gear – the kind of workout clothing that you only wore when you were training with the prettiest man in the entire Avengers tower – you made your way down the training room, where Pietro was already waiting for you. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, and his face split into a wide smile when he saw you.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” he said, after closing the distance between you.

“I told you I needed to shower.”

“You didn’t bring Socks,” he said, pouting. 

“Why would I bring Socks?”

“I like her better than I like you,” he said, and you swatted him playfully on the shoulder. He could’ve very easily dodged it, but he didn’t.

“And I like your sister better than I like you,” you said.

“Ouch. You wound me, prinţesă.”

“Shut up. Are we going to get started?”

Pietro didn’t respond. Instead he tackled you to the ground. You weren’t ready.

“ _Piet_ ,” you said, in exasperation, but he was laughing. You brought your knee up towards his gut; he blocked it with his hand. Concentrating hard, you phased through his hand and caught him sharply in the stomach. His laughter turned to coughing, and you scrambled out from underneath him. You took advantage of the opening – with Pietro, you had to – and caught him in a headlock. You held him tight, but he was taller, stronger and faster than you. He pushed himself to his feet, taking you with him, so you tightly wrapped your legs around his waist from behind, still not letting go.

He stumbled backwards a few steps, and you redoubled your grip. He was clearly struggling to breathe. Any second now he could submit. You waited, holding on tight. When he started to move, you knew you were screwed. The world around you became a blur as he ran around the edges of the training room. You clung to him, no longer trying to choke him out but instead trying to not get thrown off. You focused on him, the only static thing in your rapidly spinning world. Now that your grip had loosened, he was breathing hard. He was staring straight ahead, eyes locked onto something you couldn’t see.

He stopped abruptly, and the momentum sent you flying forwards over his head. Your hands were outstretched, and then you were landing in his arms. He had overtaken you and caught you.

“Bastard,” you said. “I almost had you.”

“You love it.” He was holding you bridal style, with a look of such fondness in his eyes that you had to look away. He cleared his throat and set you back down on your feet. The world still felt like it was spinning. You tried to turn but the ground was suddenly rushing up towards and then Pietro was holding you up again.

“Dizzy?” he asked, grinning.

“You did that on purpose,” you said, but you were grateful for his arms holding you up.

“Prinţesă,” he said, looking mock-offended.

Whatever he said next was drowned out by a cacophony so great that it almost knocked you off-balance. It was like the howling of the wind down a tunnel, but it was all around you, shaking you to your core.

“Piet,” you tried to say, but it was lost in the sound. Nevertheless, Pietro's arm tightened around your waist. You looked up. There, above the two of you was a swirling, dark blue vortex. You felt Pietro tugging you, but you were rooted to the spot. His mouth was suddenly very close to your ear. He was shouting your name.

“Draga mea. You need to move.”

You let him pull you back, but you never took your eyes off the vortex. It was pulsing with energy now. Your head was aching just looking at it. All of a sudden, it spat something out, and folded in on itself. It disappeared as quickly as it had come, taking the sound with it, and all you could hear was the Pietro’s heavy breathing and the ringing in your ears.

“What the hell was that?” came Tony’s voice from the doorway. You turned. Tony, Steve, Natasha, Wanda and Vision were all standing there. They must’ve heard the vortex. They were all staring at the ground under where the vortex had been. Well, all except for Wanda. She was staring right at you, the way Pietro was curled around you, holding you against him. Awkwardly, you disentangled from him, missing his warmth as soon as you’d done it. He said your name, but you didn’t look at him. You were staring at the figure the vortex had spat out. You realised that it was a man.

You took a step towards him and Pietro tried to grab your arm, but you let it phase right through you.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” said Tony, but you ignored him, approaching the man on the ground. He had silvery hair that felt to his chin. He looked very scruffy. His eyes were closed.

“Hello?” you said, and you’re not entirely sure what happened next. It was very fast. The next thing you knew, the stranger was on his feet, a wild look in his eyes and his hands clenched into fists, and Pietro was standing in between you and him, trying to make himself seem as tall and broad as possible. The stranger’s eyes darted from you to Pietro and back.

“Where am I?” he asked in a hoarse voice.

“Who the hell are you?” Pietro spat back.

“I asked first.”

“I don’t care.”

“Piet,” you said softly. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body. His entire body was tensed, ready to fight, so you moved to stand beside him, putting a hand on his forearm. You could feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of your face, but you didn’t look at him.

“Hi,” you said to the stranger, and gave him your name. “What’s your name?” Again, he glanced nervously between the two of you.

“Peter. Peter Maximoff. But some people call me Quicksilver.”

Pietro’s arm was wrenched from your grip as he launched himself at Peter. You stumbled back, but a firm hand caught your arm, stabilising you. Wanda. You watched in awe and horror as Peter dodged out of the way, sending Pietro sprawling. He was fast, just like Pietro. You’d never seen anyone able to match him for speed before, and it was a terrifying realisation.

“ _Pietro_ ,” said Wanda, but he wasn’t listening. He went back in, better prepared this time, and tackled Peter to the ground. They tussled for a few seconds, just a blur of limbs, until they finally stopped.

“Let me go,” said Peter, trying to shove Pietro off him, but while Peter may be fast, Pietro had the leverage on him now, pinning him face down. 

“Pietro, _let him go_. He’s not going to hurt you,” said Wanda in an exasperated tone. It wasn’t enough. Pietro pressed Peter’s face harder into the ground every time Peter struggled. Eventually Steve had to wrestle him away. When he still didn’t look like he was going to back down, you stood between them, facing Pietro, and took his hands. That finally broke his concentration, and he looked down at you.

“This must be some kind of trick,” he said. “He’s Hydra, or- or- or-” He was shaking.

“He’s not,” said Wanda.

“ _Then why is he pretending to be me?_ ”

You turned, then, to look at Peter again. He was on his feet now, staring at Pietro with his mouth agape.

“We’ll get this figured out,” said Wanda. “Come on, let’s go downstairs.”

“ _No_.” Pietro pulled his hands out of yours and was gone in a flash. Wanda sighed.

“I’ll go after him,” you said to her. “You’ll be more use trying figure out what’s going on with this one.” You nodded your head towards Peter. Wanda grimaced but agreed.

*

You found Pietro in his room, moving back and forth too fast to be called pacing. You were holding Socks as a sort of peace offering, and as you had expected, he stopped moving as soon as he saw you.

“Dragă,” he said, but he wasn’t talking to you. He didn’t take Socks from you, but instead leant forward and nuzzled into her, like he was a cat himself. He was practically resting his head on your chest, give or take a few inches, but didn’t seem to have noticed. It felt like a strange, indirect hug. You couldn’t see how this would be a comfortable position for him. Carefully removing one arm from under Socks, you ran your hand through Pietro’s hair. He let out a soft, contented sigh.

“Are you alright?” you murmured.

“No,” he said, not meeting your eyes but instead opting to stare into Socks’.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He huffed out a breath that you felt tickling across your collarbone, and had to suppress a shiver. He straightened up.

“I just don’t understand how everyone is so calm about this.”

“I know. I know you’re scared,” you said softly. “But you didn’t have to go nuclear like that.”

The hurt on Pietro’s face made you immediately wish that you could take it back.

“I thought you would be on my side,” he said. His expression was drawn tight, as if he was trying to hold back his emotions.

“I am on your side, Piet,” you said. “I’m always on your side.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.” And with that, he was gone, and you were left holding Socks to your chest. The only evidence that he’d been here at all were your goosebumps from the draft he left in his wake.

After that, you needed to collect yourself. You brought Socks back to your room and screamed into a pillow, but it wasn’t as cathartic as you’d hoped. After a few minutes, you gave up, deciding that you’d be better served finding out what was going on with Peter, so you scrubbed away the traitorous tears that must’ve fallen while your face was in the pillow, and made your way downstairs.

Peter was sat at the head of the dining table, not restrained, and with a large plate of spaghetti in front of him. The rest of team had been assembled, showing a full spectrum of levels of distrust. Wanda seemed relaxed. She greeted you as you entered, but then went back to looking intently at him.

“What’s going on?”

“She’s reading my mind,” said Peter through a mouthful of food. Unpleasant, but it did remind you that you hadn’t eaten yet today, so you made yourself up a plate.

“Anything interesting?” you asked Wanda, settling down opposite her on Peter’s other side.

“Plenty,” she said. “How is my brother?”

“Sulking,” you said, and she grimaced sympathetically.

“I don’t think your boyfriend likes me very much,” said Peter, and you choked on a forkful of spaghetti. Tony, who was passing behind you, gave a hearty thump on the back. Everyone was looking at you now.

“Pietro- Pietro isn’t my boyfriend,” you said, cheeks hot.

“Oh,” said Peter, glancing at Wanda. Wanda’s expression was completely unreadable. “I just thought… Because you guys were like… You know…” He gestured vaguely, but his hand moved so fast that you could barely see it.

“Like what?” you asked. Even without looking, you could still feel the whole room’s eyes on you.

“… Close,” said Peter.

“We are close.”

“I meant physically.”

“Right,” you said. “Well, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Well, your _not_ -boyfriend doesn’t seem to like me very much.”

“What makes you say that?” you asked, snorting. Anything you could do to deflect from the awkwardness of the situation.

“Mostly him repeatedly slamming my face into the ground. That was fun. I’ve never met someone who could keep up with me.”

“Neither has he,” said Wanda. As if on cue, Pietro was sitting beside you. The only indication of his arrival was the way some of the papers on the table fluttered briefly, and the sturdy weight of his arm suddenly leaning across the back of your chair.

“Well,” said Pietro, making half of the people in the room jump. Not you or Wanda though; you were both used to it. Peter didn’t jump either. His eyes were fixed on Pietro, looking amused. “What is he?” asked Pietro pointedly.

“He is a parallel universe version of you,” said Wanda, chillingly matter-of-factly. She took a sip of her drink.

“You saw that in my head?” asked Peter.

“I put the pieces together,” she said, shrugging.

“You fell through some kind of dimensional portal,” said Tony, pulling up a chair beside Wanda, sounding fascinated.

“That tracks,” said Peter.

“Well, how are we going to get him back to his own dimension?” said Pietro agitatedly.

“Aw, I didn’t know you cared so much about my wellbeing, big guy,” said Peter, his dark eyes glinting. Pietro stood up so fast that his body was a blur, so Peter followed suit. You stood up, but they were still staring each other down over the top of your head. Pietro looked angry, but Peter was smiling.

“Do I have to sit on you?” you asked Pietro, irritated. “Stop trying to start a fight.” This was overwhelming. You were stressed, but Pietro was far too wrapped up his own emotions to see that. He was still gripping the back of your chair, so you phased through his arm and turned to go. You heard him saying your name, but you ignored it, heading for the stairs.

“Let her go, Pietro,” said Wanda, and you were very thankful she was here. It was only early afternoon, but you felt exhausted. Back in your room, you collapsed into bed and buried yourself under the covers.

*

“You know, for two people who aren’t dating, you seem very invested in each other.”

You jumped. Peter had appeared out of nowhere as you were making your way down to breakfast the next morning. He was smiling at you impishly.

“What do you want?” It came out ruder than you intended, but he didn’t seem bothered.

“It was super awkward after you left. Pietro looked like a lost puppy.”

You opened your mouth to say something – you had no idea what – but Peter was gone.

When you walked into the dining room, Pietro was leaning back against a counter, drumming his fingers against it. He didn’t relax when you walked in, but a small, guilty smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Vis,” said Wanda. “I need help finding my, uh… thing.”

“What?” said Vision, but she was herding him out of the door. Thor, the only person remaining besides you and Pietro, audibly swallowed a piece of toast.

“Good morning,” he said, and without explanation, picked up his toast and his coffee and left the room.

You didn’t care that clearly you and Pietro were the subjects on everyone’s lips this morning. All that mattered is that he was here in front of you, meeting your eyes sheepishly. He looked tired. His hair was sticking out in all directions and he was dressed in a t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms. You walked towards him.

“Prinţesă, I-” He was cut off when you headbutted his chest, arms coming up to wrap around him in a moderately aggressive hug. His arms curled around your shoulders, pressing your face into his chest. You breathed him in. “I’m sorry,” he said, stroking your hair away from your face. “I was an ass.”

“You kinda were,” you said. You looked up at him, and he was looking down at you sadly. “I’d be a terrible friend if I didn’t say that. But I don’t blame you. You were scared. You were overwhelmed. Any of us would’ve been in that situation.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he said softly. “You’re too good to me.”

“Shut up,” you said, your eyes falling closed. You felt a laugh vibrating through his chest, and you nuzzled into it, trying to absorb his laughter through your skin.

“Do you want to train with me today?” he asked. “We got a little interrupted yesterday.”

“I’d love to.”

“Awesome, can I join?” Both of you jumped as Peter appeared beside you. “I’d love to see what you guys can do.”

Pietro had fire in his eyes. The two of them looked at each other, Pietro glaring, Peter smirking. 

“Fine,” said Pietro, which seemed to surprise all of you.

“Race you there,” said Peter, and then you were alone, because Pietro had dashed off after him. Sighing, you made your way after them. You passed Natasha in the corridor.

“Are you alright?” she asked when she saw your face. You chuckled.

“I thought Pietro was going to be the death of me,” you said. “And now there’s two of them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos sustain me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the injury/medical stuff related chapter, I had surgery yesterday and I guess this was on my mind. 
> 
> Also sorry for any grammatical/tense errors, I'm going to go through and proofread again tomorrow to pick up any that I missed, but I am recovering from being sedated, which is why this chapter is kinda all over the place.

Training with Pietro and Peter went about as well as expected. You’d come in to the training room to find them arguing about who had won their little race. You rolled your eyes.

It ended up being one of the hardest sessions of your life; or at least since you got your powers figured out. The two Quicksilvers were constantly trying to outdo each other, and they both seemed to have boundless energy. They were very evenly matched, and they were both running circles around you. You had just about figured out how to deal with Pietro, but now you were hopelessly outnumbered and outpaced.

They were both far more concerned with each other than they were with you. You were often dodging limbs, but at one point, you didn’t make yourself intangible fast enough, and got a stray elbow to the face for your trouble. You grunted in pain, bringing both hands up to your nose. The flurry of movement stopped at once. When you brought your hand away from your face, you could see that your nose was bleeding.

“Prinţesă,” said Pietro at the same time as Peter said your name. Pietro was touching your face. You were blinking back tears. Both of them were apologising, although you weren’t certain which of them it was that injured you. You batted Pietro’s hands away.

“I’m fine,” you said unconvincingly. Pietro drew his eyebrows together.

“Let me take you to a doctor,” he said softly.

“I’m _fine_ ,” you repeated, but it was undermined by the sudden spurt of blood that came out of your nose. Before you could say anything else, Pietro was laying you down on a bed in the medbay. Your head was swimming from the haste with which he’d carried you there. “Piet, I said I was-”

“Please,” he said. His voice sounded so anxious that you let him speak. “For me. Just… Let the doctors take a look at you?” You sighed.

“Fine.”

Pietro sat down in a chair opposite you while the doctor checked your nose. His leg was bouncing so fast that you couldn’t see it. You belatedly realised that Peter was here too, leaning against the wall near the door, not looking at either of you. As the doctor was pressing on different parts of your face to check for tenderness, you heard Wanda’s voice from the doorway.

“Pietro? Can I speak with you?”

“I will be back,” he said, squeezing your hand. He was gone in a blur.

“Well, that was awkward,” said Peter. You jumped. He was now leaning against the wall beside your bed. The doctor looked at him disapprovingly.

“It’s not broken,” said the doctor finally. “You’ll probably have some bruising and a bit of soreness, but you will be fine. You’re free to go.”

“Thank you doctor,” you said. “Can I wait here for Pietro to come back? He’ll be worried if I don’t.”

“Yes, that’s fine,” said the doctor, before leaving the room. You got to your feet. You were alone with Peter now, which made you feel a little nervous.

“Is he always like this?” he asked. “Your not-boyfriend, I mean.” You rolled your eyes.

“Like what?”

“Like he’s in the midst of a nervous breakdown.”

“Oh. No, that’s new.”

“Is he always so touchy-feely?”

You were about to answer “yes”, but you paused. You hadn’t thought it about it all that much. Pietro was usually a tactile person, but it had been on another level since Peter’s arrival.

“No,” you said. “But he’s been having a hard time since you got here. He probably just needs more physical reassurance.”

“From you specifically,” said Peter. “Not from his sister. Not from any of his other friends.”

“I’m his best friend. And Wanda isn’t necessarily the cuddly type.”

Peter barked out a laugh.

“Are you always this slow?” he asked. Your brow creased.

“I don’t-”

“He was all over you in the dining room yesterday. He was like a dog, marking his territory, pissing all over you.”

“Gross,” you said, wrinkling your nose.

“And you were loving it,” he said. He was smirking at you now. You wanted to hit him.

“I’m a cuddly person,” you protested. “I’m like that with all my friends.”

“Are we friends?” he asked.

“Uh-”

Before you could properly respond, he had pulled you against him into a tight hug. Your face was pressed into his chest. One of his hands was stroking your hair. His body was unnaturally warm, like Pietro’s. His embrace was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. It was oddly comforting.

“Oh, hi Pietro,” said Peter over your head. You twisted in his grip, looking at the doorway. Pietro was standing there, his lips clamped tightly shut. He clearly wasn’t coming any further into the room, so you phased out of Peter’s arms and walked over to him. He didn’t move.

“What did Wanda want to talk to you about?” you asked, moving into his personal space. He hesitated for a moment, but then opened his arms for you to slip in.

“She said I’m going to hurt someone if I don’t calm down and stop being ridiculous.”

You snorted, and a drop of blood fell out of your nose and splashed onto his shirt.

“Oh,” you gasped, pulling your hands up to cover your face again. “Sorry!” He took a step back from you, staring at you with wide eyes.

“Don’t apologise,” he said firmly. “I’m the one who should be sorry.” His expression was pained.

“You don’t need to-” You started, but then you were talking to empty air. He was gone.

“Awkward,” said Peter from over your shoulder. You still weren’t used to him being around. He moved past you out the door. His expression was halfway between a grimace and a shit-eating grin. “Tough luck. See you around.” And then he was gone too, leaving you alone.

*

Three days later, you hadn’t seen Pietro since he left the medbay. Often, you would walk into a room and a gust of wind would inform you that he had just left. It was infuriating. You had no idea what you’d done to warrant this punishment. You spent your mealtimes third wheeling with Wanda and Vision, which was extremely awkward. Peter would drop in, but he’d usually make some smart-ass comment and leaves, frustrating you even more. You missed Pietro. Before this whole mess, he had been your best friend. He’d still be your best friend if you could ever get a conversation with him.

On the third day at lunch, Peter skimmed past you, stealing a few fries off your plate and winking at you, before disappearing. You dropped your head in your hands.

“Are you alright?” asked Wanda, and you made a non-committal noise. Wanda glanced at Vision, who took the hint and vacated the table. “Is my idiot brother causing you grief?”

“Did you read my mind?” you groaned into your hands.

“Dragă, I didn’t have to,” she said sympathetically. She took one of your hands in both of hers. “My brother is a mess. He needs time to figure himself out.”

“I know,” you said, looking at the table. “I just wish I could help. I miss him.”

“Everyone is focussed on themselves,” said Wanda. She was looking at you very strangely. “How do _you_ feel about Peter being here?”

“I…” You hadn’t thought about it, beyond the fact that Peter’s presence was hurting Pietro. You settled on saying “Peter is a pain in the ass.”

“Is that all?”

“He’s nice, though. I think maybe we could be friends,” you said, after some thought.

“Just friends?” asked Wanda.

“What is this?” you asked. Suddenly it felt like Wanda was less of a friend and more of a spy. You felt like she had lured you in with kindness and now she was fishing for information she could’ve very easily found inside your head.

“I’m just trying to gauge how you will feel once Peter leaves.”

“I…” You sighed. “Peter is nice. I like Peter. But…”

“You love Pietro,” said Wanda.

There was no use in lying to her.

“Is it that obvious?”

“To me? Yes. To Pietro, evidently not.”

“Please don’t tell him,” you pleaded. You couldn’t handle the embarrassment. You didn’t want him to look at you like you were his pathetic little friend with a hopeless crush. That was the best case scenario. The worst was that he decided he didn’t want to be around you at all anymore. Wanda took a sip of her drink.

“I won’t tell him. You should tell him,” she said simply. You gawked at her.

“I- I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“He’s not even talking to me at the moment,” you said. It was an excuse. You knew you couldn’t have told him even if he’d been sitting right in front of you.

“I will make him talk to you,” said Wanda. You wanted to say no, but it had been three days. By this point, you were just about desperate enough to accept Wanda’s help.

That was how you found yourself sitting in one of the various conference rooms in the tower, Socks in your lap for comfort. You heard Pietro before you saw him. He and Wanda were talking in Sokovian, and their voices were getting closer. You were suddenly nervous. You’d never felt nervous to see Pietro before, but this felt very different.

The door opened and Wanda stepped in, Pietro following close behind her. From the look on his face when he saw you, you thought he might’ve bolted if not for Wanda’s firm hand on his wrist.

“Wanda-” he said, but she cut him off.

“Talk to her,” she said pointedly, and then left the two of you alone.

Pietro stared after her, unmoving. There was a long, awkward silence.

“Piet,” you said softly. You heard him exhale.

“Yes, prinţesă?” There it was. You’d gotten so used to hearing him call you that that you barely thought about it anymore, but right here and now, your stomach twisted with pleasure. His voice was smooth but you could see that he was trembling.

“Talk to me,” you said, and in a flash, he was sat next to you, and Socks was no longer in your lap but his.

“I’m sorry if I have caused you pain, prinţesă.” He was stroking Socks very slowly, for him at least. He wasn’t looking at you.

“All I want is for you to let me in, Piet. It kills me to see you like this and not be able to help.”

He stared down at his lap. You waited. He let out a sound that could’ve been a choked off sob, and then he was in your arms, his face pressed into your neck, Socks squished in between your chests.

“Oh, Piet,” you said soothingly, carding your fingers through his hair. Socks let out a noise of discomfort, and Pietro immediately pulled back, releasing her onto the table beside you, before diving back in for another hug. You could feel his hot tears on your neck. His breath puffed against your skin unevenly. You held him.

“I’ve missed you,” you said. You realised that you were crying too.

“I’m so sorry, prinţesă,” he said shakily. “I shouldn’t have stayed away. I should’ve been there for you too.” You shushed him gently, murmuring that it was okay. The two of you stayed like that for a long time.

*

Things didn’t go back to normal. Pietro was no longer running away every time you entered the room, but in spite of his apologies, he was still not sitting with you at lunch or spending time with you in the evening. You had no idea where he went during his leisure time, but wherever it was, it was far from you. Wanda seemed even more exasperated about it than you were, but she didn’t say anything.

The next time you saw Pietro for more than thirty seconds was almost a week later. The entire team had been called together to discuss progress on getting Peter back home. Stark had brought up one of his fancy holograms, showing the device he’d been working on to try and reopen the portal back to Peter’s world.

Pietro was stood across from you, maddeningly close but too far away to touch without drawing attention. You wanted to wrap yourself up in his arms and forget about everyone else for a little while, but it was clear that wasn’t going to happen. He was tense, looking as if he ready to run off at the slightest provocation. It killed you to see him like this. There were dark circles under his eyes. He looked like the most beautiful catastrophe you’d ever seen.

Where was the Pietro who woke you up in the morning and laughed at your bedhead? Where was the Pietro who treated your cat like royalty? Where was the Pietro whose movie nights would turn into sleepovers, curled up on his bed with him stroking your hair while he thought you were sleeping? You missed _that_ Pietro. You barely recognised the man in front of you.

When Stark finished talking, a rumble of conversation started up throughout the room and you took your chance.

“Piet,” you said, closing the distance between yourself and him. You touched his wrist lightly.

“Yes, mea draga?” He was smiling at you. That was refreshing.

“Watch a movie with me tonight. It’s been ages.” He frowned. You couldn’t hide your disappointment, but as you started to pull away, he held your forearm.

“Will Socks be there?” His tone was light, teasing you.

“I can’t guarantee it.”

“Hmm… In that case, I’ll think about it.” There were shades of the Pietro you knew in his words. He still hadn’t let go of your arm, but his grip was gentle, comforting. The rest of the team were filing out of the room now. Wanda looked over her shoulder at you and smiled.

“You love to see it,” said Peter, suddenly standing between you like he was officiating your wedding. He slung one arm over your shoulders and the other over Pietro’s. Pietro dropped your arm like he’d been burnt.

“What do you want?” he asked Peter bitterly.

“Oh, nothing. I’m glad to see you two are getting along again,” said Peter with a winning smile.

“Peter,” you warned. You didn’t like the look in Pietro’s eyes.

“You know nothing about our relationship,” said Pietro, unhooking Peter’s arm from around him and pushing it back at him. “And it’s none of your business.” Cautiously, you shrugged Peter’s other arm off of your shoulder. You didn’t like where this was going at all.

“Anyone who’s come within thirty feet of you two knows about your relationship,” said Peter. He was still smiling. Your stomach turned.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked harshly, but you already knew. Everyone could see that you were some pathetic little girl with a crush and Pietro was so ridiculously out of your league. Anyone who looked at you could tell that you were pining after him and he was humouring you. Hell, he probably even knew, but said nothing because he didn’t want to hurt your feelings.

Peter’s face fell at the look on your face. He’d been trying to twist the knife with Pietro, not you. You felt your eyes stinging. Both Pietro and Peter were looking at you with concern, and it was humiliating. Peter opened his mouth to speak, but you held up your hand.

“Don’t answer that,” you said. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to know.” You turned to leave, head down so you couldn’t see everyone staring at you.

“Wait,” said Peter, in front of you now. You could’ve phased through him. You probably should’ve phased through him, but instead, you shoved him. He stumbled but didn’t fall. For the first time since you’d known him, he looked genuinely abashed. “Wait,” he said again. He hadn’t learnt his lesson. He was in front of you again. Sighing, you stopped. There was no use fighting this. By now, you knew Peter well enough to know that he’d keep going as long as you did.

“ _What?_ ” You put as much vitriol as you could muster behind the word. He put up his hands in a placating gesture.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I just think that the two of you are clearly having a lot of problems right now that would be solved by fucking it out.”

“Stop it. Stop making fun of me,” you said. Hot, angry tears were spilling down your face. Peter was halfway through forming another apology when Pietro tackled him to the ground.

It was a lot worse than last time. The first time they’d fought, Pietro had just been trying to incapacitate a threat, and Peter was dazed from being spat out by a vortex. Now, Pietro wanted to hurt Peter, and Peter knew that, and was responding in kind.

“ _Pietro!_ ” you screamed. “ _Stop it!_ ” You could barely hear your own voice over the thudding in your chest. They were both moving so fast, tearing into each other, hurting each other. You wondered how long it would take before there was nothing left of them.

They moved in a blur together, until they stopped very suddenly. They were frozen, clinging to each other in a violent embrace, hands and elbows jabbing faces and ribs. Both of them were bleeding profusely. You took in a shuddering breath. To your right, you saw Wanda holding out both hands. Relief washed over you.

Putting them in the medbay together seemed too risky, so they were both taken to their own rooms. Both had fast healing, but they would still be down and out for a few hours at least. They were under stern orders to stay put, not that that would stop either of them if they wanted to leave.

You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t want to be alone, but wherever you went, people were looking at you with curiosity or pity and you didn’t know which was worse. Thor gave you a bear hug, which was nice, but it also made you realise that what you really wanted was to talk to Pietro.

When you reached his bedroom door, it was ajar, and you heard hushed Sokovian voices talking quietly. You felt like you were intruding on his and Wanda’s conversation, even though you couldn’t understand what was being said, so you turned around and went back the way you came.

Listless, you decided to go and see Peter instead. You were still annoyed at him, but he hadn’t deserved the beatdown that Pietro had inflicted. Still, he gave as good as he got. Besides, if not you, who else was there? Peter didn’t have a Wanda. He didn’t have you either, not the way that Pietro did. You found yourself knocking on his bedroom door before you could talk yourself out of it.

“Come in,” he called out. He seemed surprised to see it was you. There were bruises on his face and arms, but he seemed pretty chipper, considering the circumstances. You handed him the juice box you’d brought as a peace offering and pulled up a chair next to his bed.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, much softer than usual.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” you said. He chuckled.

“Yeah, your not-boyfriend really did a number on me.”

“Will you stop calling him that?” you snapped. Peter’s eyes went wide. The room was awfully silent for a long moment.

“What did I do?” he asked quietly. Your heart twisted. In spite of everything, you did like Peter. He wasn’t Pietro. He was nothing like Pietro apart from a few superficial details. He was an ass, but he was kind too, and in a situation less complicated than the one you found yourselves in, you were sure you would’ve been friends.

You struggled to find the words to explain to him why you were so hurt. You gave it your best shot in any case.

“Everyone is always trying to butt in on my friendship with Pietro. People are always trying to push us in one direction or another.” You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the next part. “Me and Piet were just starting to be okay again after whatever the hell has been going on lately, and then you were in our faces, reminding me that what we have isn’t enough, and it never will be enough. I’m always going to be some stupid girl who wants more from him and he’s always going to be pretending that he doesn’t know that. Because otherwise things would be too awkward.”

Peter hadn’t taken his eyes off you the entire time you were speaking. When you finished, your hands were shaking. To your surprise, he began to laugh. You were on your feet in an instant.

“If you’re going to throw this back in my face-” you started, your face hot.

“No, no, it’s not that,” he interrupted, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “You’re just as much of an idiot as he is. Maybe even more of an idiot.” You didn’t know what to make of that. Peter was inexplicably grinning again. “Just talk to him. Tell him how you feel. I promise you won’t regret it.”

You could feel his eyes on you as you walked over to the door.

“You don’t know shit,” you grumbled at him, closing the door behind you.

Wanda was still there when you got to Pietro’s room, but you couldn’t wait any longer. She let you in when you knocked, and then left the two of you alone. You surveyed Pietro from the doorway. He had two black eyes and bruises down his neck and chest, which you could see because he was shirtless, but he still smiled when you walked in.

“You’re an idiot,” you told him, and Peter’s words echoed in your mind.

_You’re just as much of an idiot as he is. Maybe even more of an idiot._

Pietro put one hand on his bare chest, just over his heart, and said, “You wound me, prinţesă.” You were reminded of a simpler time. You moved to stand by his bed, but you didn’t sit down.

“Pietro,” you said seriously. He stopped smiling and sat up a little bit. “Whatever this is – any of this – it has to stop. You and Peter are going to tear each other part. I don’t want to see that happen.” He looked down at his hands. “And I miss spending time with you. You’ve been so distant. I feel like I’m losing you.”

“Draga mea,” he said softly, sadly. He took your hand in his and brought up to his face. You stifled a gasp as he pressed a kiss to your palm, his eyes closed and contented. The touch of his lips sent a bolt of electricity straight up your arm to your heart. “Do you still want to watch a movie tonight?” he asked without opening his eyes. He was still holding your hand against his face.

You wanted to say something snarky or sarcastic, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to do it.

“Yes,” you said. He smiled into your palm.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’m not going to get Socks, though,” you said, and he laughed softly.

“That’s okay, prinţesă. You can have me all to yourself for now.” He winked at you. 

Pietro had always been flirtatious. You had almost forgotten the way he could get your heart racing with just a few well chosen words.

You kicked off your shoes and climbed into bed beside him, like you always did on movie nights. There was a friendly level of distance between your body and his, because you were, after all, friends. It was just like it used to be. The two of you were alone together for the first time in a long time, and you couldn’t remember ever feeling this happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos are great but comments are my lifeblood, thank you x


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very smutty. Like, really smutty.  
> Also gratuitous use of the cunt word, because I am British.  
> ~~ Enjoy ~~

“Alright, let’s get on with this then,” you said.

Miraculously, you had managed it (with some help from Wanda). Pietro and Peter were sitting opposite each other on a picnic bench, and they weren’t tearing each other’s throats out. Not yet, anyway. You had decided to do this meeting in Central Park, because it felt like neutral territory. It was a weekday, in the middle of the day, so it was relatively quiet.

You sat on the table with one leg over each side, so you didn’t give the appearance of taking sides. You were supposed to be mediating after all. Peter was looking at Pietro with a devilish smile, and Pietro had his eyes fixed firmly on the table in front of him.

“Pietro,” you said, and he looked up at you. His eyes were bright and pretty, as always. You wondered if he had any idea what he was doing to you as he looked up at you through his lashes. “Do you want to start?”

His gaze dropped to the table again. You could see the effort it was taking not to bolt in the tension in his hands. He held himself still like it was the hardest thing in the world.

“I am sorry,” he said to Peter, still not looking at him. “I have let my temper get the better of me. I never should’ve attacked you.” Peter laughed loudly, making both you and Pietro jump.

“That’s okay, big guy,” he said. “Just don’t make a habit out of it.”

Pietro looked at Peter for the first time since he’d arrived. Peter grinned back at him. Pietro seemed to be trying to figure out if he was being mocked or not.

“Anything else to add?” you asked, looking down at Peter.

“Do you feel better now?” he asked Pietro.

“No,” said Pietro, and truth be told, he looked miserable. You wanted to hug him, but it didn’t feel like the right moment.

“Why not?” asked Peter.

“I…” said Pietro. He looked at you, and then at Peter, and then back at you. “I’m still not sure who you really are,” he said, his gaze settling on Peter. “I’m not sure what you being here means for who I am. I was the fastest. Now what good am I?”

“You know what I think we should do?” asked Peter. In the blink of an eye, he was standing up, holding a large stick that he’d picked up from god knows where. He laid it down on the ground next to the picnic table. You looked at Pietro, who looked just as bewildered as you felt. “We should have a race.”

“How does that help?” you asked. You couldn’t help but feel like that might make Pietro feel worse, not better.

“Think about it,” said Peter. “There are two options. Either you win, and you’re still the fastest person, or I win, and you know for sure that you’re not. Closure. Then you can start figuring out who you are, independent of your powers.”

Pietro’s face was drawn tight, like he was thinking hard. You felt out of your depth.

“Fine,” he said suddenly, and then he was standing facing Peter.

“Excellent,” said Peter. “We’ll do a lap of the park, starting and ending here.” He indicated the stick he’d laid on the ground. He clapped a hand on your shoulder and said, “You can judge who the winner is.”

“I- How?” you tried to ask, but by the time the words were out, Peter had shouted “3-2-1 GO,” and they were gone. You hadn’t had a chance to process what had just happened before they were back. They were both breathing hard.

“Who won?” asked Peter.

“How would I know?” you said. “You both move faster than I can see. You arrived at the same time as far as I’m concerned.”

Pietro let out a groan, but Peter didn’t seem deterred.

“Okay,” he said. “Plan B. I have another competition that you can judge.”

He pulled you to your feet. You started to ask him what he was talking about, but he silenced you with a kiss. Your eyes went wide. His eyes were open too, but he was looking at Pietro, not you. He had angled your bodies so that you were side-on to Pietro, and out of the corner of your eye, you could see him staring at the two of you with his mouth open. Peter turned his face away from yours to look at Pietro fully. His hands were resting on your hips.

“Tell me you haven’t thought about it,” he said.

“Thought about what?” stammered Pietro.

“A threesome, obviously,” said Peter, rolling his eyes. Your skin felt very hot where his hands were touching you, even through your shirt.

“I…” Pietro’s eyes flicked between the two of you. You realised that you were holding your breath. “Do you want to?” he asked you.

There was a silence. They were both looking at you, waiting for you to respond. Peter was drawing maddening little circles with his thumbs against your hips, while Pietro stared straight at you like he was trying to see into your soul.

“Yes,” you said, and then Peter was throwing you over his shoulder.

“Race you back to the tower,” he called back to Pietro, and took off.

You were pretty sure there was some scuffling on the way back to the tower, but it was hard to tell, because it was over in a matter of seconds. Peter all but threw you across your bedroom onto your bed, but Pietro was already there to catch you. Socks let out a very disgruntled meow at having her nap disturbed, so Pietro scooped her up into his arms.

“I’m so sorry, dragă,” he said, kissing her head. He opened your bedroom door and placed her down outside. She meowed at him, and he blew her a kiss as he closed the door. Peter was lying on the bed beside you, and he seemed to be enjoying watching Pietro interacting with Socks as much as you did.

You gasped as you felt Peter’s hand toying with the button on your jeans. You looked at him, and he quirked an eyebrow at you inquisitively. Suddenly, Pietro was on your other side, skimming his hand up your waist.

“Are you alright, prinţesă?” he whispered directly into your ear. You shivered at the feeling of his warm breath against your ear.

“Much better than alright,” you said. “But… let’s go slow, okay? You guys are going to give me headrush.”

Peter’s hand moved away from your jeans, and you felt him untying your shoes and pulling them off. Pietro pressed his face into your neck, kissing slowly and languidly, his lips leaving behind a trail of fire in their wake. You were making some frankly embarrassing noises, considering all that Pietro was doing was kissing your neck. You gasped again as you felt Peter licking the shell of your other ear. One of your hands found its way into Pietro’s hair, and the other curled around Peter’s neck, pulling them both closer.

Peter pressed his tongue into your ear, and a choked off moan burst out of you before you could stop it. You covered your mouth with both hands.

“You like that, huh?” said Peter, looking very amused. Pietro was frowning, so you framed his face with your hands and pulled him in for a kiss. He sank into it instantly, kissing you like his life depended on it. At the same time, Peter went back to work on your ear, biting and kissing and licking it until you were a writhing mess. Pietro was swallowing your moans, holding you so close that you could barely breathe.

“We’re all wearing too many clothes right now,” you said, and the two of them seemed to agree, because you’d barely finished the sentence when they were both suddenly down to their underwear. Pietro pulled off your shirt, while Peter made quick work of your jeans, leaving you in just your bra and panties.

“Prinţesă,” said Pietro, staring down at your body. His fingers slid down from your ribcage with to your hips, and he played gently with the waistband of your panties. “You look incredible.” You could feel yourself blushing. You were starting to feel uncomfortably wet.

“Well, aren’t you two adorable?” said Peter, flopping down on the bed beside you.

“Shut your mouth,” said Pietro, but there was no heat behind it. He was staring down at his hands, which were still fiddling with your waistband.

“Make me,” said Peter, and suddenly Pietro wasn’t touching you anymore. He had his hands firmly planted on Peter’s shoulders, holding him flat against the bed. He leant down and dropped a kiss onto Peter’s mouth. They both had their eyes wide open, like when Peter had kissed you earlier, and you delighted in the bewildered expression on Peter’s face. For the first time, Pietro was the one that was smirking. He pulled away.

“That was hot,” you said, and he leaned down to kiss you again, grinning like an idiot.

“I want to taste you, mea draga,” and that was all the warning you got before he was between your legs, mouthing at you through your panties.

“ _Piet_ ,” you gasped. He grinned up at you and hooked his fingers into your waistband, pulling your panties down.

Peter seemed to shake himself out of his daze at that moment, because he unhooked your bra and immediately took one of your nipples into his mouth. His other hand cupped your boob, circling his thumb around your other nipple. His thumb sped up, moving so fast that it might as well have been vibrating.

Pietro pressed his face into your pussy and ate you out like he was starving. His lips and tongue were moving so fast you couldn’t keep track of what he was doing. His stubble scraped against the inside of your thighs, and you trembled with the intensity of everything you were feeling. He pushed your legs up over his shoulders and vibrated his tongue over your clit, and you came hard, clenching around nothing and gasping a garbled combination of both of their names. Pietro wasn’t done.

“You taste so good, prinţesă,” he said, before sinking his tongue into your cunt. You arched your back, so Peter grabbed your wrists and held them above your head with one of his, before going back to sucking and biting and playing with your boobs.

You came for a second time when Pietro slid two fingers inside of you and crooked them at just the right angle.

“Piet,” you moaned again. You were trembling from the overstimulation. Peter released his hold on you, and you sat up. You slid your fingers into Pietro’s hair, gripping so hard that he moaned against your oversensitive pussy. “Can I suck you off?”

You found yourself flipped over onto your hands and knees, now with Peter behind you and Pietro in front, rubbing himself through his boxers. You felt Peter positioning his head between your legs and start to lick your clit. Your eyes rolled back into your head. Pietro stroked your face tenderly as you pulled down his boxers, freeing his hard cock. Up this close, it was bigger than you’d imagined. You wondered if it would be hard to fit it inside you. You licked at it experimentally, and Pietro let out a groan that made your pussy clench.

You could feel a puff of air over your pussy as Peter laughed. You were about to make some smartass comment back to him, but then he spread the lips of your pussy with his fingers and started to tongue fuck you, and you lost the ability to speak. Instead, you focused on sucking Pietro’s cock. He clearly didn’t know what to do with his hands, using all his restraint to stop himself from fucking your face, so you took his hand in yours and guided it to your hair. He took the hint and gripped it hard enough to hurt, pain and pleasure mingling as you hummed around his cock.

Peter made you cum two more times with his tongue and fingers before Pietro pulled away from you.

When you raised your eyebrows at him, he said, “You have such a pretty little pussy, mea draga. It would be a shame if I never got to fuck it.” He was smiling but his voice sounded wrecked. You straightened up and kissed him, hard and dirty, tasting yourself on his tongue.

“How do you want me?” you asked breathlessly.

“Bend over,” he murmured into your ear.

He positioned himself behind you, his thick cock teasing against your cunt. While he did so, you pulled Peter towards you by the hips, and took as much of his cock into your mouth as you could manage in one go. He swore loudly, pulling your hair. Not to be outdone, Pietro pushed the head of his cock into you.

“You’re so tight, prinţesă,” he said reverently. “So perfect. Feels so good.”

“Pietro,” you moaned around Peter’s cock. You felt Peter shiver with arousal.

Pietro pushed into you, inch by inch, agonisingly slowly. His firm hands on your hips kept you grounded, otherwise you thought you might’ve screamed.

“Fuck me. God, Piet, just fuck me.”

He obliged, pulling back out and pushing you into you, his thick cock brushing against your g-spot. You shuddered under his every touch, overwhelmed by the sensation of having one cock in your mouth and the other in your cunt. Peter was moaning your name. Pietro was letting out a colourful mixture of swear words and affectionate nicknames, in English and Sokovian. They both moved faster until you were being fucked from both sides, desperately clinging to the bed, hardly able to remember your own name.

When Pietro’s hand slipped under you and his vibrating fingers found your clit, you knew you were done for. You came for the last time, squeezing Pietro’s cock with your pussy, and he followed very quickly afterwards. He held you up while Peter tugged on your hair, fucking your face until he came down your throat.

You collapsed onto the bed, and Pietro went with you, cushioning your fall with his arm. He nuzzled into the back of your neck, sleepy and affectionate.

“Well, that was fun,” said Peter. You don’t know when you closed your eyes, but you opened them when he said that. He was fully dressed again already, grinning at the two of you like a mischievous little imp. “Thanks guys. I’ve gotta run. See you around.” You sat up, but he was gone.

You turned, and Pietro was standing up too. He had put his underwear and trousers back on, but he was still shirtless, looking at you uncertainly. You were suddenly very aware of how naked you were.

“I should…” he said, pointing to the door.

“Piet,” you said. Your heart was thundering in your ears.

“Yes, prinţesă?”

“Stay?”

He looked like a deer in the headlights. After a moment’s hesitation, he disappeared. You exhaled sadly, but he was back almost as soon as he’d left, now wearing pyjama trousers. He looked strangely adorable.

“I thought you’d gone,” you said.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Do you still want me to stay?”

“Of course I do.”

At a very careful and considered pace that was unlike him, he climbed back into bed beside you, pulling the covers over himself.

“That was intense,” you said. “I don’t… I don’t really want to be alone after that?”

“I understand,” he said softly, and wrapped his arms around your waist. Your heart was racing. His bare chest was pressed against your boobs. He was stroking your hair in a way that now felt very non-platonic. You snuggled further down into the bed and pressed your face into his chest, breathing him in. At some point, you fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

When you awoke the next morning in an empty bed, you weren’t entirely sure you hadn’t dreamt it. The pleasant ache between your thighs and the finger shaped bruises on your hips made it clear that you hadn’t, and yet, you were alone now. Well, apart from Socks, who was curled up on the pillow next to you.

Pietro was gone. You didn’t want to dwell on that fact, so you showered, and tried to forget how it felt when he was inside you. When you emerged, you felt physically clean, at the very least.

You had slept through breakfast, so when you went downstairs, only Peter, Wanda and Vision were in the dining room. Wanda glanced at you, and you tried not to think about Pietro, because you didn’t want Wanda to have to see the images of her brother in your mind. Evidently you failed, because Wanda made a disgusted face and then looked back down at the book she was reading.

Peter sidled up to you.

“How was your night?” he asked in an annoying, sing-song voice.

“You were there,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“I meant after I left.”

“Oh. I fell asleep pretty quickly, and Pietro left while I was sleeping,” you said. You tried to sound casual, but you couldn’t meet Peter’s eyes. Peter gawped at you.

“Are you serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious?”

“I left the two of you alone together and he just _left_?”

“Alright, don’t rub it in,” you said, taking a step away from him.

“I’m not, I promise,” he said. “God, do I have to do everything myself? Your not-boyfriend- I mean, _Pietro_ is hopeless. Let me fix this?”

“Will your ‘fix’ involve sex this time too?”

He shook his head.

“No. Well, maybe, but not with me. Please?”

“Fine,” you said. It’s not like you could feel any worse. “Go ahead.”

“I won’t let you down,” he said, and then ran off.

*

Peter was gone for an hour. That was highly unusual. You had breakfast to try and quell the anxiety churning in your stomach. It didn’t help. Wanda was giving you strange looks, but you didn’t really feel like talking to her. You were on your way back to your room when Peter caught up with you again.

“I can’t find him,” he said. He was practically vibrating.

“Pietro?”

“Of course Pietro, who else would I be talking about?”

You drew your eyebrows together. You didn’t know what to say to that.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean-” He cut himself off and took a deep breath. “I’ll keep looking.” He disappeared again, leaving you feeling rattled.

Back in your room, you checked your phone. No missed calls, no messages, nothing. You opened your contacts and found Pietro’s name. As it rang, you waited. There was a buzzing sound. You felt your blood run cold. Tucked just under the bed were Pietro’s jeans, with his phone in the pocket. Why would he leave without his phone?

Kneeling down on the floor, you picked up his phone. Your own face smiled back at you from the screen as it continued to ring. The picture that Pietro had set for you was of you holding Socks in your arms, resting your cheek on her fur and smiling up at the camera. You hit the red button to decline the call, and the screen went black. You saw your anxious face reflected back at you.

Moving aside the jeans, you also found his t-shirt and shoes. You felt like you were going to be sick. _Where was he?_

“I checked the tower again,” said Peter. “He’s not here.” You turned to face him, holding Pietro’s phone and shirt in your hands. You watched his face tighten with worry. “We should get Wanda.” The thought was distinctly unappealing, but you couldn’t help but agree.

*

“So explain this to me again,” said Tony. You were sat in the middle of a team meeting, and all eyes were on you this time. You didn’t like being the centre of attention.

“Peter can’t find Pietro anywhere in the tower or surrounding areas. Wherever he is, he left without his phone, shoes and most of his clothes,” you said, not meeting anyone’s eyes. Tony raised an eyebrow at you.

“And you know this because?”

You folded your arms uncomfortably in front of your chest.

“He left his stuff in my room,” you said.

“And by stuff, you mean clothes? He left his _clothes_ in your room?”

“And his phone,” you said. You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks.

“And why was he in your room without his clothes?”

“Alright, Stark, that’s enough,” said Cap, and you were very grateful for his intervention. “Stop trying to embarrass her.”

“Is there security footage?” asked Nat.

“There are cameras in the corridor outside of your bedroom,” said Tony. He pulled it up as a hologram and scanned through to find activity. Your heart was thudding in your ears. He found the moment when the three of you had arrived, and slowed it down just enough to show you slung over Peter’s shoulder, and Pietro just behind. Nat quirked an eyebrow at you, and you looked at the floor, trying to steady your breathing. You could feel Wanda’s eyes on you, but you were steadfastly avoiding her gaze.

Then the footage reached the point where Peter left. Then, moments later, you saw Pietro leaving in his boxers and returning in pyjama bottoms, slowed down to a visible speed. After that, there was nothing until you emerged this morning. Pietro hadn’t left your room through the front door.

You jumped at the feeling of Nat placing a hand on your shoulder. It was unexpected, but welcome. There was a firmness to her grip that made you feel safe. Peter was being uncharacteristically quiet.

“There’s something else,” said Tony, bringing up a graph. It was mostly steady, with little variation, but it had a huge peak in the middle.

“What is this?” you asked.

“Energy readings from the portal stabiliser,” he said. “There’s a huge spike at about 3am last night.”

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Pietro went missing around the same time that the machine went haywire.”

“You mean…” The room was deathly silent. You looked at Peter, who was staring back at you with wide eyes. “You think the vortex might’ve reopened?”

“I think someone opened it from the other side,” said Tony.

“You think Pietro’s in my world?” said Peter. He looked worried.

Wanda’s face was completely white.

“Peter, what’s the matter?” you asked. He swallowed hard.

“It wasn’t great when I left it,” he said. “I’m sure it’s fine. He can handle himself. He’ll be fine.” He didn’t sound at all sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably gonna turn out longer than initially planned, just FYI.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pietro interlude xoxo

Pietro wasn’t at all sure how it had happened. One moment, he was drifting off to sleep, pressed against you with his face in your neck, and the next, he was crashing into the metal floor of an unfamiliar room. He scrambled to his feet. He felt like someone was trying to crush his skull between their hands.

There were four people in the room with him, none of whom he recognised. He suddenly became very aware that he was shirtless, wearing only his pyjama bottoms. He moved to lower his centre of gravity, ready to run or fight if it came to that. The other people seemed just as surprised to see him as he was to see them.

“You’re not Peter,” said a tall man with glasses and dark hair. He was standing by a large metal machine that Pietro couldn’t identify, and staring at him with eyebrows drawn together.

“I- What?” asked Pietro. One of the other men began to walk over to him. His expression was dark.

“Where is my son?” he asked in a low voice. There was an implicit threat in his words. Pietro’s head was spinning. It dawned on him where he must be.

“You’re… You’re Peter’s father?” He looked him up and down.

“So you do know him. Where is he?” The man was moving closer.

“Erik,” said the man in the wheelchair in a warning tone, but Erik had already grabbed Pietro’s arm. On instinct, Pietro brought his knee up into Erik’s gut and then took off for the door. He had no idea where he was or how he’d got here, but he knew he needed to get out.

He was almost at the door when he froze. His muscles had locked up without his consent.

“Pietro?” came a voice that was far too close. It sounded like a thought. “That is your name, yes? Pietro?”

Pietro felt his body moving involuntarily, turning back to face the people in the room. 

“How do you know my name?” he said aloud.

“My name is Charles Xavier,” said the man in the wheelchair. “I’m a telepath. This is Raven,” he said, indicating the only woman in the room, “Hank,” the man with the glasses, “And Erik.”

“This is Peter’s world?” asked Pietro.

“Yes,” said Charles.

“Why am I here?”

“We were trying to bring Peter back,” said Hank, looking sheepish. “But it looks like my machine brought you here instead. I don’t know why. I was so sure that it would lock onto him.”

“I think I know why,” said Pietro. “According to my sister, Peter and I are parallel universe versions of each other. That’s why your machine is confused.” Everyone except for Charles was looking at Pietro dumbstruck, so he continued, “This has been very nice, but I need to get home. I need to get back to my…” He paused. He had no idea what to call you. You weren’t his girlfriend – not yet, at least – but it seemed ridiculous to say you were just friends after what had happened the night before. “Back to my girl,” he settled on. It didn’t come out right, but he didn’t have a better word.

Hank and Charles exchanged a concerned look.

“What?” said Pietro.

“Opening up a rift intentionally was a huge risk to do just once,” said Hank nervously. “It’s too dangerous to do it again, especially this quickly.” Pietro’s nostrils flared.

“You brought me here, and now you’re telling me that I can’t go home?”

“Not yet,” said Charles placatingly, because it was clear that Hank was floundering. “But soon. We’ll get you back home. We need our Peter back, in any case.”

“Right, of course,” huffed Pietro, folding his arms. Everything had to be about Peter. “Can I please get a shirt?”

“Oh right,” said Hank.

He directed Pietro to a locker room. There was pile of spare shirts, so he put one on. It was dark blue, with a large yellow X across the chest. Pietro snorted.

“We will get you home,” came Charles’ voice from behind him, and he jumped. He hadn’t realised that he had been followed.

“What is _this_?” asked Pietro, indicating the walls lined with matching costumes.

“That’s our uniform,” said Charles. “We’re called the X-men.”

“That sounds stupid,” said Pietro. “But fine. And how are your X-men going to get me home?”

“Professor Hank McCoy is one of the finest-” Charles cut himself off, his hand flying to his temple. Pietro watched his eyes widen.

“What is it?” All derision had left Pietro’s voice.

“There’s another rift. We have a young mutant predicting them so that they don’t catch us unawares and we can minimise civilian casualties. Bringing you here probably didn’t help.”

“You don’t say,” said Pietro drily. He didn’t think it was the time to ask what Charles meant by ‘a young mutant’.

“Well, you’re here now,” said Charles. “How would you like a job?”

*

On the jet, Pietro adjusted his seatbelt. It was restrictive – far tighter than he was used to – and he hated the feeling of being restrained. It reminded him of Hydra. He tried to focus on anything else.

The jet was quiet. He had been introduced to the rest of the X-men; as well as the ones he’d met earlier, Kurt, Storm and Angel were joining them on the mission. Jean and Scott had stayed behind, because Jean was injured and someone needed to keep an eye on the children. Conversation had dried up pretty quickly after introductions were made. Pietro couldn’t help but feel like it was because of him.

Pietro’s job was simple: get civilians as far from the rift as possible. It had been Peter’s job really, but Pietro was here and Peter was not, as much as that seemed to bother his teammates. Hank had redirected the rift as far from populated areas as possible without causing it to expand, but that was pretty much a crapshoot. Pietro tried to think about the task ahead, but it wasn’t like there was much he could do to prepare beforehand.

“Can you sit still?” Erik’s voice broke through his thoughts. “You’re distracting me.”

“You know what’s distracting me, old man?” said Pietro bitterly. “I didn’t ask to be here. My girl woke up this morning and I wasn’t there with her. As far as she’s concerned, I left while she was sleeping. She’ll think I abandoned her.”

“Are you going to complain for the entire journey?”

Pietro raised an eyebrow at him.

“How did Peter come from you?” he said dismissively. “You’re so uptight, and he’s so…” Unbidden, his mind flicked back to the previous day, when he’d watch Peter kiss you and felt his heart constrict in his chest. Peter had looked him straight in the eye, challenging him to do something, anything. He remembered how Peter had stared at him while you were between them, being fucked from both sides. He remembered the shock in Peter’s eyes when he’d kissed him, and the lust in yours as you’d watched. Pietro didn’t have Peter figured out yet, but he didn’t hate him anymore.

Pietro glanced over at Charles, whose cheeks were slightly pink, and remembered that he was in the presence of a telepath. His face flushing, he pushed all thoughts of you spread out beneath him and Peter fucking your mouth out of his mind.

“I’m not uptight, I just…” Erik sighed. “I didn’t raise Peter. I didn’t know him until he was a teenager. He was always like this.” Pietro cocked his head to one side, but didn’t interject. “I didn’t even know I had a son. He figured it out before I did. When he finally told me, I…” Erik looked down. “I’ve been a father, but not to Peter. It’s been a difficult process. I just want to get him home.” His jaw tightened suddenly. “If Hank hadn’t-”

“Erik,” Charles interrupted.

“If Hank hadn’t closed the rift-”

“Erik, we’ve talked about this.”

“-while Peter was still in there-”

“ _Erik_ ,” said Charles sharply. “It isn’t Hank’s fault. The rift could’ve done untold damage if he didn’t close it when he did.”

Erik crossed his arms but didn’t argue. The jet was silent again, but this time, Pietro’s expression had softened considerably.

“I understand your anger,” he said. “I do not have a father. I lost my parents when I was a child. We will bring your son home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating, I had to watch every single X-men movie between last chapter and this one just to get a feel for the world tbh. This wasn't my original plan, but it's where I am now. Hope you enjoy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for panic attacks/trauma in this chapter.

“You know,” Peter muttered, “this would be a lot easier if you can phase us both through.”

“Well, I can’t,” you said, frustrated. “I’ve never managed to phase through anything with another person. I could live without the snide comments.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “Just… I don’t like not having space to move around.” You exhaled slowly.

“I know. Pietro is the same.”

You were sat side by side, with so little space that your legs were bent awkwardly in front of you. Periodically, you’d make your legs intangible so that you could stretch them out, but you couldn’t hold it for long, and Peter didn’t have that luxury.

“You really love him, huh?”

You couldn’t look Peter in the eye even if you wanted to, so you stared down at your hands, which were holding onto your knees.

“That obvious?” you asked.

“You get this look in your eye every time you talk about him.”

“Right,” you said.

“Hey,” said Peter. “Look at me.” You awkwardly shifted your body to face him. His deep brown eyes were earnest and kind. He took your hand. “We’re gonna get him home, okay? Everything is gonna be alright.”

“Thank you, Peter,” you said softly.

The crate that the two of you were in was full of weapons that you couldn’t even identify. With your powers, you could move a little more easily, but every small motion of Peter’s body set you on edge. He was restless, and if he wasn’t careful, he might set something off.

Infiltrating an A.I.M storage facility inside a weapons shipment wasn’t your first plan, but it was the only one the Avengers could scrape together at such short notice. Tony had given you the specs of the exact sort of power source you were looking for – one that could help him stabilise the portal – but you had no idea where in the facility it was located. Your powers made you an effective infiltrator. Peter was here to back you up in case anything went wrong. You were glad you weren’t alone.

“What about you?” you asked.

“Huh?”

“Aren’t you keen to get home?”

“Oh, sure,” he said. You weren’t convinced.

“You got people waiting for you?” you probed. “Friends? Family?” He swallowed.

“My mom will be worried about me,” he said after a long pause. “And my sisters. I’ll be happy to see them again. My dad…” He trailed off, but you didn’t press him this time. “My relationship with my dad is complicated. I didn’t know him until I was basically an adult. He didn’t even know he had a son. And he did a lot of… bad stuff. The first time I met him, I was breaking him out of prison.”

“What?” you said with an incredulous laugh. Peter grinned at you, and it was nice to see his smile back.

He told you about his life back on his world. He told you about his mother and sisters, about his father, about his friends and about the X-men. You listened intently. Peter was good at telling stories. There was a brightness in his eyes that was captivating.

“So Hank was messing with some interdimensional crap. It started opening up those portals all over. There was this kid at the mansion who could predict when they were going to open, so we’d go in advance and be there to close them before they opened. I was supposed to be getting civilians out of the way. I got too close.” He smiled sadly. “And you know the rest, I guess.”

“Peter, that’s-” You were interrupted when the crate you were inside of came to a sudden halt. The two of you sat in silence, listening out for any signs of life, but all you could hear was your own breathing. “I’m gonna check if the coast is clear,” you whispered, and Peter squeezed your hand reassuringly.

Taking a deep breath, you phased your head through the wall of the crate to take a look. The crate was outside, still on the back of the truck it had been on when you’d snuck into it. You were in some kind of gated parking lot. The rest of the convoy was filing in to the compound. Thankfully, there was no one on your side of the crate, but you could sees group of people – presumably agents of A.I.M – exiting what looked like a warehouse a little way away. You pulled back inside the crate.

“We need to be quick,” you said, and Peter grinned at you.

“Quick is my middle name. Kinda.”

“Quick is your first name, kinda.”

You gave him a quick rundown of the layout of the area and the people you’d seen. He nodded and then braced himself to move. The two of you made brief eye contact, and then you pushed yourself through the wall of the crate, rolling and landing like a cat on the asphalt outside.

By the time you’d landed, Peter was already by your side, having unlatched the other side of the crate from inside and closed it behind him. He grabbed you and pulled you along with him. You blinked, and you were inside the warehouse. You tried to keep quiet, but you felt dizzy. Peter was holding you up.

“Come on,” he muttered. The warehouse was filled with more crates and boxes, some like the one you’d arrived in, others more sleek and sturdy. Chances were that what you were looking for would be in a more robust container, and breaking it open would attract attention, so you needed to be sure it was the right one before you did.

Peter was your lookout while you phased your head into each box in turn to find out what was inside. You kept low. You felt his hand gripping your wrist and then releasing it, and then gripping it again almost as soon as he’d let go. He was speeding off to look around corners and then coming back to you. It was comforting to have him here with you. You felt grounded.

He whispered your name, and you jumped.

“What?” you hissed.

“Do you think that’s it?” You looked where he was pointing. In the centre of the room, where three guards were milling about, was a tall black box, covered in warning labels. There was a control panel on the front of it, but you couldn’t make out the screen from here.

“Could be,” you said. “It’s about the right size. Can you see what the control panel says?”

Peter hummed his assent and then his body flickered in a tell-tale sign he’d used his powers.

“Energy readings,” he said. “I think that’s the box we need.”

“How do we get over there?”

There was a guard on every side. No approach was unobserved.

“I’ve got this,” said Peter, and before you could ask what he meant, your face was almost pressed to the smooth black surface of the box. 

You heard a gasp behind you, and you knew you couldn’t hesitate. You phased into the box, and sure enough, you found precisely what you were looking for. The power source was small and glowed a bright yellow. You pulled out the bag that Tony had given you to carry it in. There was shouting from outside, so you knew you didn’t have long. Once the power source was secured, you phased through the wall of the box again and began to run in the direction of the exit.

There was gunfire. You became intangible, praying that Peter wasn’t hurt, because there wasn’t really anything you could do to help him if he was. The distance to the door felt a lot further without Peter. Your lungs were burning. You couldn’t keep up being intangible for long, but with bullets flying in every direction, you didn’t dare let your guard slip. Feeling a hand passing through your arm, you nearly jumped out of your skin, but it was just Peter. Relieved to see him, you dropped your intangibility and let him pick you up and run you over to the door.

It was too late. Even with Peter’s speed, the door had automatically shut and locked. Alarms were going off. The building was locked down. You could hear footsteps thundering towards you.

“You know how you said you’d never phased anyone else through anything before?” said Peter, hurriedly setting you down.

“Yeah?”

“Now might be a good time to try.”

You had tried before in training scenarios, but you’d never managed it. Inanimate objects were one thing but people were an entirely different ballpark. Still, it wasn’t like you had options, so you grabbed Peter’s hand and tried to pull him through with you. You went through fine, but his hand hit the solid wall and he swore in pain.

“Sorry,” you said desperately, pulling yourself back through into the warehouse. You were running out of time. You tried again, but once his body came into contact with the wall, it wouldn’t budge. Peter flattened himself against the wall and you tried to push him through, but it was to no avail. Your hands kept phasing right through his chest. Distantly, you heard him saying your name. You ignored him.

“Stop,” he said, grabbing both of your arms. Your heart was pounding in your ears. At the sound of gunfire, all you could think about was the time that Pietro nearly died during the battle in Sokovia. “You’re gonna burn yourself out.” You looked around. Peter had moved you against a different section of wall, out of the way of the bullets. “One of these fools must have a key or something on them. Stay out of sight,” he said, and then he was gone.

You crouched behind a crate, trying to get your breath back. You could hear gunshots and cries of pain, but thankfully, none of them were Peter. The edges of your vision had started to white out. You clung to the bag that contained the power source like it was a lifeline.

“Come on.” There was Peter, standing beside you, holding out a hand to you. “The door is open. Let’s get out of here.” You tried to move, but your breathing was still coming in fast, shallow gasps. Peter’s eyebrows drew together anxiously, but he bent down and pulled you to your feet. You closed your eyes as he whisked you out of the building and away. You felt the cold air whipping your face, but it didn’t help your nausea. When you finally opened your eyes, Peter had set you down in a forest somewhere.

“The Avengers are sending a transport to meet us here,” he said. You nodded, unable to speak. “Are you alright?”

Your breathing had slowed down a little, but your face was blotchy and streaked with tears. You felt as though you might throw up. Instead, you leant back against a tree and sank down into a sitting position. Peter sat down opposite you.

“What happened back there?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” you said. You couldn’t meet his eyes.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, but you knew he was lying. You were pathetic. “What’s wrong?”

“I...” You took a shuddery breath. “The gunshots- I-” You closed your eyes. It was easier to speak if you couldn’t see him looking at you. “When I first met Pietro, before he joined the Avengers, we were on opposite sides. We were fighting but he captivated me from the start. He was dumb and flirtatious and infuriating.” You huffed out a laugh. “Then the twins came over to our side. Pietro was always so sweet to me, and even though I barely knew him, I was already falling for him.”

Finally, you opened your eyes and looked over at Peter. He was watching you intently. Your breathing was starting to even out.

“Then, there was this battle in Sokovia, where Wanda and Pietro are from,” you continued. “Pietro saved Clint and this little kid, and in the process got himself shot. A lot. Wanda was distraught, so I was with him for the entire journey home. I held his hand. I watched the light go out of his eyes. I didn’t realise how much I liked him until I nearly lost him. They saved him. He was in a coma for three weeks and I barely left his side. When he finally woke up, most of the team had already given up hope. Not me, though. And not Wanda. His rehab was hard. Even with fast healing, eight bullet holes do a lot of damage. I was with him through all of it. He said I was his guardian angel. That he wouldn’t have got through it without me. He became my best friend.”

You drew your knees up against your chest and rested your arms over the top of them.

“When they started firing back there,” you said. “It was like I was back in Sokovia. I could see the light going out of his eyes. I couldn’t believe that I’d lost him _again_. I couldn’t breathe. And then I became this useless deadweight that you had to rescue. I’m sorry.”

“I meant what I said before,” said Peter firmly. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” Overhead, you heard a helicopter approaching. “That’ll be the Avengers. Come on. Let’s get back to the tower.” You let him pull you to your feet, but as he moved to let go of your hand, you pulled him back in for a tight hug. He let out a small noise of surprise, but wrapped his arms around you all the same.

“Thank you,” you murmured into his chest.

“Any time,” he said, ruffling your hair.


	7. Chapter 7

“Alright, we’ve got the communicators up and running. You sure about this?” Tony asked, turning to face you. “We don’t know what damage this thing can do.”

“We have to bring Pietro home,” you said, sounding braver than you felt.

“Okay then. What about you, Speedy Gonzales 2.0?”

“I’ve been through once before. I’ll be better prepared this time,” said Peter. He was smiling.

“Alright,” said Tony, “Suit up.”

Peter said goodbye to the rest of the Avengers. You did too, but tried not to make it sound too permanent. Wanda gave you both a kiss on the cheek and told you to bring her brother home. You promised you would, and she gave you a warm, sad smile. When you were ready, the rest of the team went and watched from the viewing gallery, leaving just you and Peter behind with Tony’s machine.

“You ready?” asked Peter. You tucked the communicator that Tony had given you into a pocket and then zipped it up for safekeeping.

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Alright kids,” came Tony’s voice over the loudspeaker. “Let’s get this show on the road.” He began to count back from five. Peter took your arm. You didn’t want to risk losing each other in the vortex.

When Tony got to one, there was a familiar cacophony. You fought the urge to cover your ears, and instead gripped Peter’s arm hard as you felt the vortex pulling you in. You closed your eyes and let it take you. It felt as though your body was being crushed under some terrible weight. The only thing keeping grounded was the tight grip you had on Peter’s arm.

After what felt like hours, although was probably no more than a minute, the vortex spat you out face down on the floor of an unfamiliar room. You let out a little whine of pain.

“You get used to it,” said Peter. He was already on his feet, helping you to yours. You rolled your eyes at him, but it hurt, so you immediately regretted it.

“Where are we?” you asked.

“Basement of Xavier’s mansion. Come on.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him. Before you knew it, you were standing in a brightly lit foyer, where everything was made of smooth, polished wood.

“Peter,” you gasped. You felt like a can of soda that had been thoroughly shaken. At the look on your face, Peter frowned at you.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I just need a minute.” You leant heavily against one of the wooden walls, trying to catch your breath.

“Peter!” You heard someone call out, and then the sound of footsteps approaching fast. You closed your eyes. There was a pain thrumming behind them. “Peter, how did you get back?”

“I had some help,” he said, and you opened your eyes. He was talking to two people who might have been even younger than you: a red-haired girl who seemed excited to see him, and a sullen looking boy wearing sunglasses. Peter gave them your name, and then introduced them as Jean and Scott. “Where is everyone else?” he asked.

“They’re on a mission. It went long,” said Jean, grimacing.

“Is-” You took a deep breath, because you still felt like you might be sick. Jean was looking at you worriedly. “Is Pietro here?”

“Oh,” said Jean, eyes wide. “Pietro wouldn’t shut up about you. Or rather, he wouldn’t shut up his thoughts about you. He was here.”

“Was? Where is he now?” you asked.

“The professor needed someone to take over Peter’s role,” said Scott. “So he took Pietro with him.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest. You had hoped that this was going to be a simple retrieval mission, but it didn’t seem like that now.

“Where are they?”

“Well…” said Jean, exchanging a look with Scott. “Hank left behind some coordinates in case they needed back up. Last we heard, things were going fine, but it’s been radio silence for nearly twelve hours now.”

“ _Twelve hours_?” said Peter, incredulous. “What are we waiting for?”

*

You took a jet to find the rest of the X-men. The ride was uncomfortable – you were still dealing with what you had nicknamed “vortex sickness” in your head – but uneventful. Jean and Scott talked quietly amongst themselves, and Peter was uncharacteristically quiet, so you just sat staring out of the window.

There was a feeling of dread you couldn’t place. It twisted up your stomach even more. Eventually, out of the window, you saw the burnt out ruins of what had once been a town.

“Here it is,” said Jean, confirming your suspicions. You looked to Peter for comfort, but he wasn’t looking at you, wrapped up in his own thoughts. His leg was bouncing anxiously, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask what was wrong. As the jet landed, you gripped the armrests of your seat hard. You went to unbuckle your seatbelt, but your fingers felt stiff and clumsy.

“Are you alright?” asked Scott. He was looking down at you, his forehead pinched together in concern. You were pretty sure it was the first thing he’d said directly to you since you’d met him.

“Yeah, just-” You gave up on fiddling with your seatbelt and just stood up, phasing through it. “Nervous, I guess.”

You looked at Peter. You could see that he was brimming with nervous energy, so you held out your hand to him. He didn’t look at you, but he took it.

Stepping out of the jet, you heard the vortex before you saw it. It wasn’t deafening like the others had been, but it was further away.

“I can feel them,” said Jean. “This way.” You wanted to ask if Pietro was okay, but the words wouldn’t come.

The four of you picked your way through the rubble and the devastated buildings. Thankfully, you didn’t see a single body. Pietro must have done his job. Even when you were climbing over pieces of rubble, Peter didn’t let go of your hand.

“They’re in there,” said Jean, pointing up at a semi-collapsed apartment building. “Taking shelter. Let’s go.”

You expected Peter to run as soon as he had a destination, but he didn’t. He looked nervous.

“What’s the matter?” you whispered, even though you were sure Jean could hear you anyway.

“Nothing,” he said, but he was a bad liar.

“Then why are you dawdling?”

To your surprise, he laughed.

“Of all the things I’ve ever been accused of, ‘dawdling’ is not one of them.”

You approached the building at a normal human pace. Peter’s hand was sweaty in yours, but you still didn’t let go. Following Jean, you climbed the stairs, and reached a half open door. She didn’t hesitate, so you didn’t either, following her inside.

“Professor,” you heard her gasp, running over to a man who was laid out on the sofa, covered in cuts and bruises. There were two other men standing over him. In the corner of the room, with silver hair silhouetted against the light coming in from the window, you saw him.

“ _Pietro_ ,” you exclaimed, dropping Peter’s hand and running towards him. You’d barely moved when he caught you, scooping you up into his arms and pressing his face into your neck.

“Prinţesă,” he growled into your skin, and you barely suppressed a shiver. “You’re here.”

“I’m here.”

“How?” he asked, pulling back to look you in the eyes. Up close, you saw that he was covered in bruises and had a cut on his forehead. You wanted to kiss it better.

“Tony’s machine,” you said breathlessly.

“You must be Pietro’s ‘girl’,” came a man’s voice from behind you. You turned to look at him. He was grinning at you wolfishly. Pietro cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Prinţesă, this is Erik. He’s Peter’s father.”

You pulled away from Pietro to shake Erik’s hand. Pietro introduced you to the other people in the room: Charles, Hank, Raven, Kurt, Storm and Angel.

“Where is Peter?” asked Erik, when introductions were done.

You looked back over to the door, where you’d seen him last. You hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t here.

“He was right behind me,” you said, walking back out into the corridor. “He’s probably just outside. I’ll get him.” Erik was watching you as you left, Pietro following close behind.

You stepped out into the street again, but you couldn’t see Peter anywhere.

“I’ll find him,” Pietro assured you, dropping a kiss onto your cheek and then disappearing. Your hand came up instinctively to touch the warm skin where his lips had touched you. He was gone for a few moments – longer than you’d expect – but as promised, he returned with Peter in tow.

“Where did you go?” you asked. Peter couldn’t meet your eyes.

“Nowhere,” he said.

“Peter…” you said anxiously.

Pietro had been holding Peter’s arm, but now he moved his hand up to rest on his shoulder instead.

“Peter,” he said in his soft Sokovian accent that made your skin prickle. “What is going on?”

Sighing, Peter sat down on a piece of rubble and put his head in his hands.

“I chickened out,” he said, not looking at either of you. “That’s what I always do. The first time I tried to tell him he was my father, I couldn’t do it.”

“This is about your father?” you asked, sitting down next to him and putting a hand on his arm.

“This is the ultimate test of how he feels towards me, right?” he said suddenly, words coming out in a blur. “I’ve been missing. What if I walk in there and he doesn’t even care?”

“He cares. Trust me,” said Pietro, sitting down on Peter’s other side.

“How do you know?”

“Your father was torn apart at your disappearance, Peter. I thought he was going to tear Hank in half. He nearly attacked me when I turned up and I wasn’t you.”

Peter looked up at him.

“Really?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Yes, really. Go and talk to him, you idiot,” said Pietro, laughing.

“That’s funny,” said Peter, flickering to his feet. “I seem to recall giving the two of you the same advice.” And then he was gone.

There was a moment of silence.

“So…” said Pietro, shuffling over to fill the gap where Peter had just been.

“So…” you said, looking up at Pietro through your eyelashes. “I’m your girl now?” His cheeks were tinged pink.

“If you want to be,” he said. You could see that he was forcing himself to look into your eyes. You laughed out loud.

“Oh Pietro,” you said, putting your hand on his cheek. “I’ve always been your girl.” You pulled him closer, and he kissed you.

*

A short while later, you made your way back into the apartment where the rest of X-men were, hand in hand. Erik and Peter were sat side by side on the sofa. Peter grinned at the two of you when you came in. Charles was sat up now, speaking quietly with Jean and Hank.

“So what’s the deal with this vortex, then? Why haven’t you closed it?” you asked.

Hank straightened up.

“I’ve tried,” he said. “This one is acting unpredictably. It’s refusing to close. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

The smile slipped off of your face.

“I think I might know why,” you said, grimacing. You pulled your communicator out of your pocket. It was time to test if Tony was right about them working here. “Come in, Tony,” you said, holding down the button on the side. Pietro stood next to you, staring down at it in interest. There was a crackle, and then Tony’s voice came through it.

“I read you,” he said. “Have you located Speedy Gonzales?”

Pietro signalled to you to pass him the communicator, so you did. He cleared his throat, and then pressed down the button.

“Go fuck yourself, Stark,” he said, and then handed it back to you.

“Noted,” said Tony. “Alright, time to get you back.”

“I need you to turn off the machine,” you said.

“ _What?_ ”

“It’s too dangerous. We’ve got a rift here that we can’t close from this side and I think it’s because of your machine. Turn it off.”

“But you’ll be trapped there!”

“We’ll figure it out,” you said. “Pietro and I are both safe here for the time being, but we won’t be for long if you don’t turn off the machine. We need to get this vortex switched off. We can figure out the rest later.”

There was a long pause. Everyone was silent.

“Okay,” said Tony’s crackly voice over the communicator. “You better be right about this. It’s your funeral. I’m turning it off.”

Hank grabbed a sturdy looking briefcase and then clambered out of the window.

“Everybody stay back,” he said. “I don’t know what this will do.”

Peter positioned himself on a balcony, ready to jump into action. Pietro did the same, and you stood behind him. You watched as Hank pulled a machine out of the briefcase and aimed it towards the swirling vortex. It was very loud now. You gripped Pietro’s forearm, and he looked back at you affectionately.

“It’s going to be okay, Prinţesă,” he said with a smile, and you believed him.

You watched as the vortex folded in on itself. Hank was standing close to it, his hair whipping in the wind. He was too close.

“Hank, be careful,” you heard someone shout from behind you, and then the vortex exploded. You barely had time to see Peter leaping over the balcony towards Hank before you were thrown backwards. You went straight through the wall, and Pietro came with you, because you were still holding his arm.

“Prinţesă,” you heard him say in confusion. “Did you just-”

“I just phased us through the wall,” you said, sitting up. “I just phased us through the wall!” You got to your feet, pulling Pietro up with you. You heard a groan of pain from behind you. Erik was trapped under a piece of rubble. Without hesitating, you dropped to your knees beside him and pulled him up, phasing him through it. Peter appeared in the doorway, with Hank’s arm slung over his shoulder.

“Good job,” he said to you. “But we need to get out of here. The whole place is gonna collapse.”

You nodded and let Pietro lift you off your feet, running you back to the jet. Peter deposited Hank into the seat opposite you. He seemed to be unconscious. You strapped him into his seatbelt while you waited for Peter and Pietro to come back with the others.

“Can you fly?” you heard Peter ask Jean as she settled into the pilot’s seat.

“It’s just a scratch,” she said, but you could see that she was bleeding badly. “The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

Looking around, there wasn’t anyone who wasn’t hurt, but you were all alive, and that’s what mattered. You took your seat next to Pietro, and settled into it, feeling far more relaxed than earlier, in spite of everything. He took your hand as the jet lifted off and squeezed it reassuringly.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another smutty one.

“This is fascinating,” said Hank, turning the communicator over in his hands. “How did Stark manage to do this?”

“You can ask him yourself,” you said, grinning. You reached forward, batting one of his hands out of the way, and held down one of the buttons on the communicator. “Hey Tony, Hank has a question for you.”

“Oh yeah?” came Tony’s voice, after a couple of seconds of silence.

You didn’t understand much of the conversation that came next, but it was quite pleasant to hear two scientists nerding out like that, so you settled back down onto the couch next to Pietro, and let the babble of conversation wash over you. As soon as you were seated, you felt Pietro’s arm wrap around your shoulders. Letting out a soft sigh, you leant into him, resting your head on his chest.

Peter was talking to his father. As far as you could tell, he was explaining what had happened in your world, minus a few of the more raunchy details. He couldn’t sit still, his hands moving in a blur. Erik was watching him with a smile on his face. It suited him, you thought.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Scott fussing over Jean’s injuries. None of you had come out of this unscathed, but nobody was too badly injured, so you counted that as a win. Jean had cuts on her face and arms, but she seemed otherwise fine. Pietro’s bruises had already started to fade.

“Are you tired, dragă?” came his soft voice right next to your ear.

“Exhausted,” you said. The last time you’d slept felt like a very long time ago.

“Do you want to go to bed?”

“Yes, please,” you said, and he adjusted his arm around your shoulders, sliding his other arm under your knees and lifting you up.

“It’s been a long day,” said Pietro, when a few people turned to look at the two of you. “We’re going to get some rest.”

“Sweet dreams,” said Peter. He was smirking, like he knew that the two of you had no intention of sleeping right now.

“Goodnight,” you said, and then you were being whisked off to the room that Charles was letting you stay in. You were lying on the bed before you knew what was happening. Pietro was standing up, holding the pyjamas that had been left for the two of you.

“It’s a shame that you’re so sleepy, prinţesă,” he said, smirking. “I was hoping to spend some time with you.”

“Get over here, you dickhead,” you said, and then he was on top of you, pressing kisses to your lips, your face, your neck.

“Piet,” you gasped as he kissed his way down your collarbone, his stubble tickling your skin.

“Yes, mea draga?” He looked up at you, a picture of innocence, but a mischievous glint in his eyes. You stroked your thumb across his jaw, gently urging his face towards yours. He took the hint, and kissed you. It was much softer and slower this time. Pietro always moved with a sense of urgency, and what you wanted more than anything was for him to slow down. You slid the fingers of your other hand through his hair, and he hummed appreciatively. Your fingers tightened, giving his hair an experimental tug, and he let out a moan that would’ve been funny if it hadn’t been so arousing.

“You like that, huh?” you teased, and Pietro slipped his hands under your shirt to give your hips a firm squeeze. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer. He was already hard.

“Baby, you’re killing me,” he groaned.

“That’s a new one.”

“Huh?” He was distracted, trying to remove your shirt.

“You’ve never called me ‘baby’ before,” you said, letting him pull your shirt off over your head.

“Well,” he said, both hands coming up to cup your boobs, “I thought I’d try something new.” His thumbs were rubbing at your nipples through the fabric of your bra. “Do you like it?”

“Yes,” you said decisively.

“Your tits feel so fucking good, baby.” Your breath hitched as he reached around to unhook your bra. He squeezed one of your breasts for good measure. “You have no idea what you do to me, dragă.” He dropped his head forward and swirled his tongue around your nipple, making you gasp and grip his hair. “When we would get really sweaty in training together, and your shirt would get stuck to your body, and I’d have to try really hard not to look at the way your tits would bounce when you moved.” He began to kiss and nibble at your other boob. “Or when you’d show up to one of Stark’s parties in a low-cut dress and I’d just want to bury my face in your cleavage.” He looked up at you with a coy smile.

“I would’ve let you,” you said breathlessly. He pushed himself up and kissed your lips again.

“I know that now,” he said.

“We’re idiots,” you said.

“We are.”

He went back to kissing your neck. You tugged at his shirt, and the next thing you knew, it was gone. He looked like he was carved out of marble. You skimmed your fingers over his abs, feeling them quiver beneath your touch. His fingers deftly unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them down, leaving you in just your panties.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, running his hands up your thighs.

“Look who’s talking,” you said, and you really, truly meant it. He was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen.

He slipped one hand into your panties, and you inhaled sharply as he touched you. Two fingers stroked over the edge of your vagina, getting themselves wet with your slick, and then moved up to rub circles over your clit.

“Piet,” you moaned. He was pressing kissing to your ribcage as his hand worked over you, and you could feel him smile against your skin.

“So good for me, aren’t you prinţesă? So good and wet for me?”

“It’s all for you, Pietro.”

He slipped his fingers inside you, and your back arched. Moving back to kiss your neck again, his breath was warm against your skin as he groaned your name. With your legs wrapped around him, you could feel him grinding against the bed. You threaded your fingers through his hair again and pulled him against you, and he groaned something in Sokovian that you couldn’t understand. His fingers were moving more sloppily against you, inside you. You were practically humping his hand as he brought you to orgasm.

When your pussy had stopped clenching around his fingers, he sat up, holding his hand up to his face and licking your taste off of them. You could see the prominent bulge in his trousers. You rolled off the bed and onto your feet. Pietro watched with curiosity as you removed your panties, and then walked towards him.

“Prinţesă?”

Without a word, you took his face into your hands and kissed the fading cut on his forehead. His eyes fell closed. Gently, you laid kisses on all of the bruises on his face and neck. He reached out to you, but you grabbed his wrists. You put your hands on his shoulders and pushed him back onto the bed. He went with no resistance. Your hands went straight to his belt, undoing it and then pulling his trousers and boxers off. He groaned as your hand wrapped around his cock, swiping a bead of pre-come off the head. You straddled his lap.

“Condoms?” he asked.

“I’m on birth control,” you said. “Do we need to get some or can we do without?”

“I’m fine with it if you are.”

In answer, you ground your pussy down onto his cock. His breath hitched. You took his cock in one hand and slowly rubbed it against your pussy, coating it in your slick.

“Mm, prinţesă…” Pietro clearly had no idea where to put his hands. He moved them towards your hips, but then seemed to change his mind, sliding down your thighs and finally settling on your knees. You lined up his cock with your entrance and slowly sank down onto it. He groaned, and you had to catch your breath. You guided his hands to your hips, and he gripped them hard, urging you down further until you were fully seated on his cock. “You’re so tight.”

You took a moment to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. He was stretching you in a pleasantly painful way.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asked, and you sighed softly in pleasure.

“More than okay,” you said. “I just need a minute.” His hands stroked your hips gently, keeping you grounded. Slowly, you lifted yourself up on his cock and then sank back down again. Pietro groaned your name. One of his hands stayed on your hip, while the other came up to squeeze your breast. He guided you as you rode him, hips grinding up and down. Your tits bounced with every motion, which Pietro was clearly enjoying, if the filthy stream of consciousness that was coming out of his mouth was any indication.

He thrust up into you, pulling you to meet his thrusts. You braced yourself with your hands on his chest. When he dropped his hand from your breast to vibrate his thumb against your clit, you knew you were a goner. You came hard around him, watching as he threw his head back in pleasure, eyes closed, mouth open, gasping your name as he filled you with his come.

You collapsed beside him, staring at the ceiling. You were sweaty and sticky and gross, but you’d never been happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pietro is a boobs man, you can't change my mind


End file.
